momentum
by Gustava Moliere
Summary: AU. The strength that allows something to continue or to grow stronger or faster as time passes. Fifteen instances far and between - drabbles.
1. Nix

Notes: This isn't something I expected to write, especially this pairing. But I wanted to give it try and complete a list of prompts from a book I'm reading as my own personal challenge. Wish me the best.

Plot: He agrees with her in something.

* * *

.

.

.

_Nix_ (Snow)

It feels hollow. There simply silence. At least, there's supposed to be. _'Crunch, crunch,'_ echoes in the vast white emptiness, followed by the _'snap, snap'_ of the twigs. It's uncommon. It's rare that the forest receives visitors. Yet, today is different. The trees can tell.

There are people here. Their voices echo far and wide. Their steps are different too. One is soft and gentle, the other is enthusiastic and cheerful and the last one is somber and serious. Three individuals in the white snow den forest. They're different, yet they are one.

_'They feel like a team,' _comments a pine to the others. The other trees simply nod in assessment and decide to observe. Human can be interesting creatures. They are capable of terrible things, but they can also be capable of showing marvelous emotions. Kindness, love, compassion, all of those and many others they show.

A triumphant laugh is heard and the trees accord to pay attention. "Ne, ne, Ao, Chojurou-kun, what did I tell you? Isn't it beatiful?"

"I think it's a lovely forest, T-Terumi-san," agrees the younger boy, smiling at her kindly.

The blue-haired man simply looks around crossing his arms sternly. "You dragged us, dragged _me_ to simply see a forest? Explain yourself, Terumi."

"Hasn't anyone told the definition of relaxed? It's a state of calmness. So, relax and simply enjoy the moment," she answers with a small grin her green eyes shining with childish glee.

Ao rolls his eyes. "All I see is a complete waste of time."

Mei straightens her shoulders clicking her tongue in annoyance. A grin mars her features and she grabs the older man by the hand. "Come along, Chojurou-kun. Let's show Ao a complete waste of time."

A sight is heard and the man is dragged reluctantly. "I don't see the purpose of being obliged to walk."

"Don't complain, you sourpuss. You'll thank me later."

"Somehow, I doubt it. This is a few hours of my life I won't get back," comments the former ANBU Hunter-nin looking away.

She glares at him. "Shut it or I'll–"

"Yes, I know, you'll kill me," he deadpans.

Chojurou tries to placate them raising his hands in a peaceful manner. "A-Ano, Sempai, T-Terumi-san, please don't fight."

Both adults look away guiltily and remain in silence. The boy simply lets out a sigh in relief at the relative calmness. He might be only ten years old, but all he wants is to have some peace and quiet. And that can be rare in this team, especially when his two teammates are older than him and squabble like a pair of children.

"You could let go of my hand, Terumi."

The woman snatches her hand away from his and pushes him away. A smirk twitches on his face and he turns to look at the auburn-haired woman noting the rosy hue on her cheeks. "Now, I agree with you, Terumi. Very beautiful, indeed."

"Oh, shut up."

.

.

.

* * *

R&R


	2. Caeci

Notes: This was an interesting piece to write. That's all I can say.

Plot: For him, it feels like forever.

* * *

.

.

.

_Caeci _(Blind)

It's past a point of desperation. His disability hinders his movements. His movements hinder his progress. And his progress is disastrous. There's nothing out there. There is neither guide nor a single light. All he sees is abysmal darkness.

It doesn't help that he can't distinguish the different noises either. All of them are unique and diverse, but, what's the use if you can't even tell the difference? He doesn't understand, not really. He doesn't comprehend this new world of shadows and gloominess.

Everything is black, not bright. No colors, no details, no nothing. There's only hopelessness, fear of the unknown and uncertainty of what comes next. The only thing that keeps his sanity is a promise, a few words that will be his undoing. It's the hope of _seeing_ again.

And he believes _her._ It's crazy, it's irrational. But this is her and this is him. They're partners, a team and two different sides of a coin. There's nothing crazy or insane they haven't done yet that hasn't turned out alright. It's a matter of faith and he's willing to put it to the test.

A _'swoosh'_ is heard repeatedly and he gets annoyed. "Will you stop that?" he asks, catching the offending hand in front of him.

"I thought they said you couldn't see," he hears Mei respond, laughing sheepishly.

"There's a difference between seeing and sensing, Terumi. Didn't they teach you that in the Academy?"

She slaps the back of his head and glares at him halfheartedly. "I come all the _way_ from one of my missions not even bothering to turn in the report, harass one of the nurses to find out what room number you're in, even though it's classified and stuff, just to see when they take off your bandages."

"I never asked you in the first place," he answers nonchalant, rubbing the back of his head. That woman can pack a punch for her small frame.

He hears her sigh. "Nonsense, we're friends, obviously. And I believe you'll see again! So, of course, I'll be here! That way the first thing you see it's my gorgeous face, not the ugly mug of _that_ nurse."

Ao tries not to rub his temple. He almost certain he doesn't want to know what Terumi Mei did to the nurse or what she did to get into his room. "Last thing I remember throwing pepper gas in my room as a wakeup call doesn't automatically make you friends with me. And, what did you _do_ to the esteemed personnel of this facility?"

"A poor unfortunate incident that won't happen again, I assure you," she waves offhandedly. Another sheepish laugh escapes her and she rubs her head not looking elsewhere. Not that he can see her or anything, but still. "I hardly did anything. All I did was ask _nicely _and she ran away scared. Not before asking her how to remove your bandages, of course."

"Now, I'm scared."

"Relax, just, trust me, you scaredy-cat," she reassures him, sitting in front of him trying to think of a way to remove the bandages. The nurse was rather vague, after all. Mei simply shrugs and gets out a kunai. It's more practical that some fancy scissors, anyways.

The noise of breathing and the rustle of bandages is the only thing heard. _'Shink, shink,'_ on this side, _'shink shink,'_ on that other. It's simple. The pressure around his head unwinds and winces at the light. He hasn't seen it for a long time, but it makes him feel so alive.

His lone blue eye meet her green ones and she smiles. "How did it feel?"

"It felt like forever."

.

.

.

* * *

R&R


	3. Felicis

Notes: This was due a long time.

Plot: He learns why they call Ao a lucky bastard.

* * *

.

.

.

_Felicis _(Lucky)

He has a crush. At least, he likes to think so. He's eleven and a half, after all. He's a boy starting to be a man. But he doesn't know how to feel about one thing. He's starting to see _things._ He's starting to notice glances, brief moments and things he _shouldn't _see, but he does, anyways. He's learning to _see._

He'd be a civilian at this very moment if he didn't. But he's sure as hell doesn't know how to feel about it. The blue-haired boy fixes his glasses glancing momentarily at the older man walking ahead of him. He's looking around briefly, scanning zealously and only giving one _look_ at Terumi Mei. _One_ look, just one look is enough to make her know and she smiles nodding briefly before dashing away after their target.

But it isn't for him. It's for Ao she smiles for. And he'd be an idiot not to _notice._ He wants to be the one to make her smile like that. He _wants_ to see her beautiful smile. But it's Ao, always Ao who gets them. Despite the fact, she hits him, teases him, pranks him or argues with him for petty things.

The auburn-haired woman comes back with a grin their target slung over her shoulder. "Bah, and you said capturing this guy was going to be a hassle."

A scoff is heard. "I said no such thing."

"T-Terumi-san is strong," he complements, blushing bashfully. Mei laughs and ruffles his hair turning to look at the older man a triumphant glint in her sea green eyes.

"See, I told you so. I _am _strong!"

"Strong wouldn't be the right word for you," says the former ANBU Hunter-nin coolly. The younger woman huffs annoyed. His head tilts just little in a thoughtful manner. "Zabuza is _strong_, but you, milady, fall in another category."

"Chojurou-kun, can you do me a favor?"

"H-Hai, Terumi-san."

"Hold our target for me while I show Ao in what category I fall into."

"Certainly," he smiles gently. He hopes Ao learns his lesson of not antagonizing the woman. He knows he wouldn't. His female teammate hands over the missing-nin and strides over to Ao grabbing him by the lapels of his kimono.

She smiles sweetly. "Care to _repeat_ that last comment?"

A sigh escapes the older man. This is happening more often than not. She's acting different, more so. But he doesn't understand why. His brows furrow in wonder. What are her reasons? "Aa, I see," he answers, looking at her impassively.

"That all?" She inquires, the grip on his kimono tightening.

"T-Terumi-san, I'm sure sempai didn't mean what he said," shifts Chojurou awkwardly, his grip faltering on the individual slung over his shoulder.

"I wholeheartedly meant what I said. Back in my day, women knew how to take their com–"

"Done?" she asks, coyly.

_"Y-You–! You kissed me!"_

The grip on his robes weakens and a laugh escapes her. She saunters past him ignoring the _way_ he's looking at her and takes the target before it falls off from the boy struggling to hold him. "Lesson one, Chojurou, when someone babblers too much a kiss is the best way to shut them up," she instructs smiling like a cat ate the canary.

"I'll do my best to remember," he nods, trying not to gape at what just transpired. The woman pats his cheek fondly her green eyes shining with mirth.

"Good boy," she says, walking ahead of him. All he can do is stare at her retreating back. He's starting to see _things_ like they should be. He's starting to understand the _whispers._ And he _now_ comprehends that there's a complexity of layers he wasn't seeing.

"Chojurou?" someone calls his name, interrupting his pondering.

"Yes, sempai?" He looks up his coal eyes meeting Ao's lone blue eye.

The man looks glances briefly at the woman ahead and turns to look at him sharply. "Not one word. Not one single word. Do you understand?"

He straightens and he nods silently not daring to say a single word. Ao looks satisfied and ambles leisurely away. The preteen fixes glasses feeling something akin to envy in his gut. He now understands why the other men call his sempai a lucky bastard. And he can't help but agree with them.

_'Lucky bastard, indeed.'_

.

.

.

* * *

R&R


	4. Conflictus

Notes: This is one of my favorite ones.

Plot: He can't help but think they sound like a married couple arguing whether they should have a child or adopt one.

* * *

.

.

.

_Conflictus _(Conflict)

He rubs his temple sighing heavily. This is one of the reasons everyone likes to avoid this particular two-man team. Unfortunately, the bastards decided that since he knew them best he should be the one allotted to the Mission Assignment Desk _alone._ He coughs, "Have you both made up your minds already?"

The arguing duo turns to look at him with an equal glare. Ganryuu raises an eyebrow. "Well, are you?"

Mei turns to look at Ao with pleading look. "My answer still is no."

"But–"

"I said _no."_

"I want him on our team," she argues with a stubborn look on her face. Her green eyes make contact with his lone blue.

Her teammate simply crosses his arms indifferently. "I made my decision clear, _Mei."_

A few minutes of eerie silence passes. The tension is palpable. Married or not, these two are a damn headache. Either she doesn't agree with something or he doesn't agree with the other. "This is going to take forever," he mutters, under his breath.

The auburn-haired woman's jaw tightens and her nostrils flare. Ao looks at her nonchalant. "Your temper tantrum won't work."

"It's not a temper tantrum!"

"Then, stop acting like an unruly child and accept the decision like a woman."

"But he's cute!"

"Regardless, he's just a genin. That doesn't make him cute nor does it mean he has to be on our team," he answers, rubbing his temple.

She grins, her eyes crinkling. "I want him, anyways. He's just so adorable. Plus, think about it! You're always complaining about the incompetence of youths these days, so, why not do something productive for the community by turning him into a competent shinobi?"

Ao closes his mouth shut with an audible click. "Fine," he agrees, grudgingly.

The swordsman tries not to show his amusement at the expression his friend is making. Using Ao's verbal rants against him can be so entertaining to watch, especially when it's Mei doing it. Ganryuu tries to keep a smile from appearing on his face. "Is that a yes, then?"

His male comrade doesn't deign to answer. Mei grin widens. "What do you think, Ryuu-kun? Of course, it's a yes!"

A chuckle escapes him and he stamps the papers handing them to the woman. "Congratulations on the adoption of your child," he teases, disappearing in a poof smoke before Mei can kill him.

"_Ganryuu!"_

.

.

.

* * *

R&R


	5. Pater

Notes: No words for this one. Other than the cheesy grin I have plastered in my face and the allusion to the previous chapter.

Plot: In a way, he's become a father.

* * *

.

.

.

_Pater _(Father)

He doesn't want to admit _it._ Even less, tell Mei truthfully that what she told him once a long time has indeed become true. It comes with the weight of things, words not spoken. Glances that they both _know _are more meaningful, contrary to popular belief. And even so her words still echo in his mind, "_You become a parent easily when you're responsible of someone not your own."_

It's true, loath he hates to admit. He's become responsible for the both of them. He _cares_ more than he should. Chojurou, the recent addition to their team a while back, has become a son. A son he never wanted, perhaps, but a son he wants to see grow wings and soar. Someone he wants to be proud of, because he now can see what the woman said, _"He has potential."_

And Mei, he dares not say anything else. They're friends, companions, partners, nothing more, nothing less. Though, the whispers of _potential_ something does sneak on him from time to time. But he pretends that he didn't listen, that it was just the wind and nothing more. It's better that way, after all.

Someone puts a hand on his shoulder and he looks up. A sigh escapes him and he focus on looking away. "What do you want, Terumi?"

The woman pouts and sits beside him. "Maa, is it a sin to look for my best friend?" she asks, shoving him playfully.

"You're the delusional," he answers, rolling his eyes. There's no way, not in a millions years that he's going to admit that to her face that he considers her one of his closest friends, few that he has left.

Mei simply smiles. "You're such a liar."

"Hmph."

"Ne, ne, Ao, want to know something?"

He turns to look at her. "Shoot."

"I was right, wasn't I?"

"About?" he frowns.

"That you'd be a great father," she tells him, grinning.

The former ANBU lets out another sigh and tries not to smile. He hates telling her things or admitting them, but there's things that he knows are truths he's seen himself. He's not a good parent, that's for sure. But her, she's simply something else. A chuckle escapes him and he shakes his head standing up. "Ganryuu was right."

"What do you mean?" she inquires, her bangs covering her eyes.

Ao smiles a little. "Of the both us, you're the better parent."

.

.

.

* * *

R&R


	6. Nostalgiae

Notes: The beginning of a few painful drabbles.

Plot: He misses those days when it was just him and her.

* * *

.

.

.

_Nostalgiae _(Nostalgia)

It starts with a petty word, simple as that. She slaps across his face and storms off slamming the door shut in its wake. Chojurou simply looks at him with sympathy and silently leaves. It doesn't surprise him, not in the slightest. This has become a common occurrence, a way to hide her bitterness, a way to suppress her feelings.

Feelings that is unbecoming for the new Mizukage. Feelings she ought not to have and he knows the cause. They both _know,_ but won't say them out loud. It's forbidden territory, it would be crossing a line. Ao swallows the lump in his throat and departs from the room.

It stings. Not the slap itself, but this feeling of sacrifice. All of it done in the name of duty and honor, in the name of the people and in the name of their village. It hurts so much, but it must be done. It pains him, but he must dull it. His feelings don't matter. He threw them away that _day._

The man stops on his tracks and smiles bitter-sweetly. He misses _them._ He misses those innocent moments, so carefree, so happy. He misses the laughs, the smiles and the teasing. Life was hard, but he had them to _survive._

But what he misses the most is her smile. A smile he's seeing less and less, nowadays. A sigh escapes him and he sits beside her. "I'm _sorry,"_ she apologizes, staring at her hands in her lap.

"You don't have to. I understand," he answers, his words tasting like ashes.

Her eyes connect with his and he looks away from her sorrow. It hurts, it's painful, it's like a knife twisting his gut, but they _can't._ "I hate this."

Ao swallows hard. "There's no other option."

His leader nods shakily. She _knows._ It doesn't help. It doesn't make it any better. The auburn-haired woman inches closer and kisses his cheek. "Thanks."

"Yeah…"

"Ao?"

He turns to look at her. "Yes, ma'am?"

"I miss those days too."

.

.

.

* * *

R&&


	7. Delirio

Notes: My heart broke.

Plot: She never wanted to be the Mizukage.

* * *

.

.

.

_Delirio _(Delirium)

Her life is turned upside down in a wink. The elder, her comrades, everyone choose _her_ to be the Mizukage. And it hurts, it aches. It's madness gnawing her very being. She never asked. It _wasn't_ supposed to her. It was _him._

She did _it_ all for him. That was the plan. They both _knew_ that out of all possibilities he would be one of the prospects. But she _is_ chosen. Apparently, she is. _'You're a symbol of hope,'_ they tell her. _'You're our new light,'_ their words echo in her mind.

Someone squeezes her shoulder and she embraces him tightly her vision blurring. "I'm sorry, Mizukage-sama."

Mei simply flinches and doesn't look at him. "Don't call me that."

"Why not?"

"Just don't."

"But–"

She looks at him with glassy green eyes her hands fisting on his robes. "Please, don't call me that. Call me Mei-san, Terumi, damn woman, I don't care! Just anything, but _that."_

A lump forms in his throat makes it hard to swallow and he understands. "I-I'm sorry," he tells her, breaking the brief silence looking away.

"W-We can't– Ao, this is different. I _can't_ be me, I won't be _me_, because I'll be the Mizukage in a few days and you and I– We won't be partners, comrades anymore," the auburn-haired woman croaks, trying to suppress the tears from her eyes.

Ao lowers his head his jaw hardening and he simply nods. The teasing, the almost moments and just about everything that makes them, _them_ won't be the same anymore. A line has been drawn.

Her hands fists harsher his robe and she kisses him her tears mixing with his desperation. It has _changed._ Everything has changed, but this is the last thing they can have as comrades. Because when she becomes his leader, he won't be her equal.

The both of them break apart their eyes communicating what they can't say in words. "I don't want to be the Mizukage," she whispers, her lips millimeters from his.

His forehead rests against hers and he smiles grimly. "I _know."_

.

.

.

* * *

R&R


	8. Faciem

Notes: A bit of lighthearted humor for the broken hearts and angst from the last two chapters.

Plot: He witnesses how close they are in the hospital.

* * *

.

.

.

_Faciem_ (Face)

It's a small building, if you think about it. Its white walls looking clinical and cold to the world. The entrance looking indifferent, unkind, unmoving. The atmoshpere feels sterile, somber in some way. It smells like antiseptic, like the smell a hospital ought to have. Nonetheless, he doesn't like it. He never has.

Dark eyes sweep the room and land on the sleeping occupants a small smile quirking on his face. It has taken time for him to accept _this._ But it's okay. He's okay now. He understands why. And while it does hurt, knowing and understading the reasons lessens the pain.

The young man sits on the empty chair and observes his two older teammates. The sun filters through the window languidly giving an air of tranquility. His sempai's chest raises steady devoid of an I.V. connected to his arm or any machine at all. He looks peaceful, unconcerned and unworried. Terumi-san curls next to him. She looks serene in her sleep.

His eyes studies them once more. They look _close._ That's _something_ he can see. They have this _sense _of belonging very similar and a lot like home. There's no repulsion or disgust. On the contrary, they're very comfortable with the other. And the way they communicate with the other through looks is testament of that.

Several yawns escape Chojurou and he blinks tired his eyes flickering. A hand pats his face gently and he smiles softly, "Terumi-san."

"Ohayou, Chojurou-kun," she greets with a smile, elbowing Ao on his ribs. His sempai stirs murmuring something and keeps sleeping his hold tightening around her waist. A squeak escapes her and she elbows harder making the older man groan in pain.

"How's Ao-sempai?" he asks, trying not wince.

Mei smiles sweetly. "Oh, he's fine. I'd say better."

.

.

.

* * *

R&R


	9. Differentia

Notes: I don't know what compelled me to write this. I simply knew I had to.

Plot: There's a difference between liking younger men and admiring art.

* * *

.

.

.

_Differentia _(Difference)

Mei admires art. In the eye of the beholder, she sees it _all._ She admires the beauty, their gayish colors and their different frames. She basks in their aesthetics, she respects their virtue. In a way, you could say, she envies them. She wishes that she could keep them forever.

Yes, she likes younger men. They haven't grown too old, too jaded yet. They haven't seen all the suffering nor the bloodshed that follows every world war. And they haven't yet gone through a broken heart. But what she admires the most is their _innocence._

An innocence so naïve she pities them _almost._ But she also has to applaud for they try so obstinately to keep it. If the poor darlings only knew what life awaits them as shinobi years on. If they only knew that their innocence won't remain forever. Therein, the crux in the matter.

She likes younger men, but how she hates them so too. How she abhors the vanity of their youth, their arrogant immature thinking and their stuborness to assume they're right about every wrong in the world. What a waste of potential, what a waste of beauty. She likes art, but it also saddens her to see a ruined a portrait.

Compared to the splendor of the old portraits, the new ones pale in comparison. The new portraits have beauty, yes, but they lack finery. They lack the expression, the scars of the portraits, the roughness of the edges in the frame and the weariness of time. You can yet see the sparkle in their eyes, that spark of rebellion expressed in the volumes of youth.

But old portraits are different. They have an unique beauty on their own. In their prime of life, you can see the wisdom. They're wiser, they're older. They know the hardships for which they have fought, they've seen the bloodshed, but they have survived. And if you ask her which all of all portraits is her favorite, she'll simply smile mysteriously her eyes shining knowingly.

Because of all the portraits in her life, Ao is and _will_ always be her favorite one. Not that she will ever admit it, though.

.

.

.

* * *

R&R


	10. Relativitas

Notes: It just had to turn into fluff.

Plot: There's a reason why no one ever sees her right eye.

* * *

.

.

.

_Relativitas _(Relativity)

It _hurts._ She can feel her eyes prick with tears. It cuts _deep,_ down her right eye, across her cheek. Blood starts to seep. And her anger boils hot like a volcano. It becomes wild and everything becomes a blur. Everything clatters like a pair of cards.

Then, it stops. Instead, it starts to tug. Someone stops her, someone holds her. Sea green clashes with blue steadily. A hand traces with ease the angry scar marring her face. His hand glistens with blood and he takes her hand to his face.

He guides it down his bleeding right eye. "You're hurt," she rasps, tracing the vertical line injuring his face. It's her _fault._ She could've done better. She should've fought better. But she _didn't._ And because of her he lost his eye.

"Ao, you're an idiot."

"We both are," he answers in a whisper.

Her hand falls to her side limply. And he prevents her for falling. Everything is haze, but she still is awake. "What were you _thinking?"_

He caresses her cheek smirking weakly, "That I couldn't live without you."

.

.

.

* * *

R&R


	11. Protectio

Notes: Being outside was indeed a source of inspiration.

Plot: She can't help but feel protective of him.

* * *

.

.

.

_Protectio _(Protection)

It blows soothing calmly and silent. The wind picks up from time to time. Only the footsteps of people working here and there break the eerie silence. Indistinguishable chatter accompanied with booming laughter fills the atmosphere.

An old woman and her granddaughter argue in silent whispers. The granddaughter sits and the old woman sweeps. And yet the wind keeps blowing and stopping. It's audible through the rustle of the leaves, yet it cannot be seen.

The sun of the midafternoon shines languid in the small village, never moving, always quiet and placid. Grey skies are its companion. "It's going to rain," he concludes at last, a sigh escaping him.

Mei looks up curiously from sharpening her kunai. "How do you know?" she asks, green eyes studying him closely.

"It smells like rain," he responds, closing his eye and inhaling the air. The woman shakes her head simply smiling and returns to sharpening her tools. Silence hangs over them. It's never easy this task of theirs. Always patrolling, always _watching._

They can never be caught off-guard. Otherwise, their plans will fall apart. Even though, it's more of _his _plan rather than hers. A young lady smiles at him and nods. The blue-haired man nods back smirking. "That's our signal."

His partner keeps sharpening with an annoyed look in her face. "Are you done flirting?"

Ao chuckles in amusement, his head dropping to her shoulder. "Unfortunately, I'm stuck with you as a teammate. So, that means no flirting."

A gust of wind blows unexpectedly and the woman smiles sweetly. _"Good._ Otherwise, I would have to knock some skulls."

.

.

.

* * *

R&R


	12. Lente

Notes: Beware of the angst and its comeback.

Plot: Their love is a slow one.

* * *

.

.

.

_Lente _(Slowly)

It doesn't happen from night to day. Neither does it begin by spending a lot of time together. On the contrary, it simply springs like a seedling always growing, always needing of nurturing. It _begin_s out of hushed whispers, of things unsaid and moments missed. It _grows_, it _bursts_ into a new feeling altogether neither saying nor communicating what they both know.

Their love develops softly to withstand trials. It suffers, it's selfless and not selfish, but most of all it learns to _wait._ Distance makes the heart grow fonder, they say, but it also longs and _hurts._ And yet it keeps growing and growing. It never does get _away._

But this _pain_, this _ache _of the heart is _worth _it. He doesn't care if he isn't with her. He doesn't care suffering in silence. Because as longest as he is with her, that's what matters. As longest as he can see her smile and breathe the air she breathes, that, only that will keep him _going._

He _swore_ it that _day._ They both did silently when their eyes met both knowing the sacrifice. It wouldn't be the same, not anymore, but they _still _had each other. Even though, it was shadow, a small crumb of light to soothe their hurting hearts.

This is _it._ There's no going _back._ His blue eye meets her green one and her breath hitches. A lump forms on his throat, but his head remains held high. "Mizukage-sama, it's _time."_

A fake smile appears on her face and she doesn't quite look at him. "Thank you, Ao."

The man simply bows ignoring the tight feeling in his chest and turns away. They _can_ never be. They _will_ never be. Only the _'what if's'_ will remain to torment them when they both are alone. And yet he can't help but think that, indeed, even though their love it's a tragic one...

They both long and wait in this slow love of theirs.

.

.

.

* * *

R&R


	13. Promissio

Notes: It seems I'm on fire.

Plot: She makes him promise.

* * *

.

.

.

_Promissio _(Promise)

Their eyes meet for a split second. They _know._ War is _coming._ War is _imminent._ That's a fact. Nonetheless, she can't help but wish that it _isn't._ Because war brings the worst of the lot, it brings _death._ And death is the last thing she wants.

Yes, people die. Everyone, even them, knows _that._ But she wouldn't, she doesn't– Her breath hitches and he taps her shoulder from a safe distance. "It's unbecoming that Mizukage-sama _shows_ her emotions."

He looks so different from before. It's been ages since she last saw him wearing his flak jacket. Back when they were partners and comrades. Back when they were no lines. And back when they were just Ao and Mei. It _almost_ feels like old times, but it isn't. This time it's for _war._

A snort escapes her and she turns to look at him. "Indeed, it is. But it's also unbecoming of the bodyguard to _care,"_ she retorts, a small grin twitching on her features.

The blue-haired man looks away. "But I _do._ I _shouldn't,_ I know, but I still do."

Her mouth opens and closes in a click. All she can do is to stare at him. "Ao, I– You know I didn't meant it that way."

"Is it?"

She simply sighs striding towards him and envelops him on a hug. "Idiot man," she mutters under her breath. Of all times, he decides to be insecure about _this?_ Of course, she knows he _cares._ She'd be an idiot not to know by now. A pair of arms hesitantly hugs her back and she smiles hiding her face on his chest.

Ao lets out a fond smile and rests his chin on top of her head. It's been years since they last hugged. Their last time was _that_ day when she was told she would be the Mizukage. This time, however, it's before war. His leader breaks the hug and kisses him briefly.

"I thought you were past this phase of yours. What was _that_ for?" he asks, letting out an insufferable sigh.

A grin mars her features green eyes sparkling in mischief. "Oh, you know, for luck. Just promise me something, Ao. Promise you'll try to survive."

His lone eye closes and he lets out another sigh, trying not to smirk. "I'll _try."_

.

.

.

* * *

R&R


	14. Valete

Notes: Angst and feels ahoy.

Plot: It's hard to say goodbye.

* * *

.

.

.

_Valete _(Farewell)

She tries to say goodbye. It's bittersweet, it makes her heart _ache._ But it's fitting in a way. She made him _promise,_ but at the same time it _wasn't_ a promise. He would _try_ and for her that was _enough._ The hardest part, though, was she never thought it would be _him_ the one to part. The one who would be watching over them until the day they met _again._

It was supposed to be _her_ to be the one to die, not _him._ He was supposed to _live,_ become her successor, _if_ something befell her, and die of old age. A few tears escape her and she lets them fall. "Guess _what,_ Ao? I miss you. Is that what you wanted me to admit?" she whispers, her eyes squeezing shut.

_"I'm sorry, Mei,"_ she can almost hear him say. And it _hurts,_ it hurts so very much. He isn't _here_ anymore. But he _haunts_ her everywhere. His voice, his smell and his very presence strikes a chord in her very soul.

"Y-You _promised,_ I know you did. But– W-Why didn't you try _hard _enough? I– You– We were supposed to survive _together._ So, w-why didn't _you?"_

No one answers her. There's only sepulchral silence and her suffering bitterness alone for company. Someone sits beside her quietly and she doesn't turn look. The smell of incense makes itself present in the small room. Fresh tears roll down her cheeks and she looks at the frame in front of her. "What are you doing here, Chojurou-kun? Can't you follow a single order for once?"

It's _painful._ It _wounds_ him to see her hurting so much. Tears prick on his eyes and he breaks his silence, "H-He loved you, you know. It wasn't hard to n-notice. But you were the one woman he could never have. Y-yet, he loved you, anyways," he croaks the lump in his throat being hard to swallow.

Mei doesn't answer. She doesn't even give him glance. All she does is look at his sempai's frame with something akin to regret tears on her eyes. But he continues nonetheless, "And you loved him too. I _knew_ it the very moment I first met you both, even though I pretended not to notice."

"I miss him so _much,_ Chojurou-kun," is all she says. And she looks so sad, so broken. He wishes he could help her. But when it concerns _wounds _of the heart he's utter rubbish.

A bittersweet smile escapes him and he simply nods. "Me too, Mizukage-sama, me _too."_

.

.

.

* * *

R&R


	15. Aliquid

Notes: It has been a hard week. Alas, we have reached the end too. Thank you to all of those that stuck around, who reviewed, added this story to their alerts and favorites and where a lovely public. Your feedback meant a lot. It is with great pride that I present to you this last chapter, the happy ending that never happened.

Plot: At last, it's about a time.

* * *

.

.

.

_Aliquid _(Something)

She doesn't how to feel at first. He's killed in action, but, then, they tell her he _wasn't._ They tell her that his life hanged by a threat. Most of those in HQ did. Some say it was a miscalculation from the Juubi's part, other say the contrary. They say it was a woman that _sacrificed_ her life to save theirs. In the end, she's grateful for both.

Because she doesn't know what would she have done if he died. Would she have suffered in grief? Would she have spent the rest of her days in mourning? She doesn't know, but she's glad she doesn't have to find out whichever.

What doesn't help, however, is that he doesn't wake up for a while. He sleeps. He spends his days in a deep slumber. So, she waits patiently, passively for the day he wakes up. And he does. This time, there's nothing holding her down, no position, no appointment of government at all, no lines. She's his _equal _again.

Terumi Mei _isn't_ the hope of the village anymore. It's someone else, someone younger and someone she knows that will do a great job. Chojurou-kun will make a fine Mizukage. Someone yawns and she smiles widely. "Hello, sleeping beauty, had a nice nap?"

Ao rolls his eye with a huff. "Refrain from calling me that, _Mizukage-sama._ People could talk."

"Relax, you idiot, it's not a big a deal," she shrugs, smiling jauntily.

An annoyed expression appears in his face and he looks at her seriously. "This is serious, ma'am. Showing favoritism to one–"

The auburn-haired woman puts a finger on his lips her green eyes meeting his blue one. "I'm your _comrade,_ your _equal,_ not _your_ Mizukage. I passed the torch to the new generation. Last thing I heard, Chojurou-kun was being sworn in as Rokudaime Mizukage."

He stares at her. No words escape him. A lump in his throat forms and he gulps. Did she just– Did she just say _that?_ A laugh startles him and he blinks a lot. Mei looks triumphant and she smiles mischievously at him.

"So, don't look for any excuses, you old coot. You're stuck with me for the rest of your earthly life. Can you handle that?"

A sigh escapes him at last and he turns to look at her raising an eyebrow a small smirk twitching on his face. "I can live with that. Can _you?"_

She kisses him and whispers, "_Idiot_, of course I can."

.

.

.

"…Once, when trying with chin against a well-curb,

I discerned, as I thought, beyond the picture,

Through the picture, a something white, uncertain,

Something more of the depths—and then I lost it.

Water came to rebuke the too clear water.

One drop fell from a fern, and lo, a ripple

Shook whatever it was lay there at bottom,

Blurred it, blotted it out. What was that whiteness?

Truth? A pebble of quartz? For once, then, something."

– **For Once, Then, Something,** Robert Frost

.

.

.

* * *

R&R


End file.
